


a light from the past may still shine upon us now.

by lovesynlikeasin



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Angst, Character Death, Coup de grâce, Death, Death Eaters, F/M, Forbidden Love, Gryffindor, Heartbreak, Love, Love gone wrong, Murder, Romance, Slytherin, Tragedy, Tragic Romance, Violence, dramione - Freeform, guilt ridden, rabastan is guilt ridden, word slurs
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-09
Updated: 2017-05-21
Packaged: 2018-10-29 22:18:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 4
Words: 5,098
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10863216
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lovesynlikeasin/pseuds/lovesynlikeasin
Summary: Rabastan LeStrange's misson is to clean up a bad love affair.





	1. coup de grâce

How exactly did they end up here, on this hill? A pureblood, a muggle born, stealing looks at each other. Their fingers entwined. Battered and bruised, yet standing uprised, their posture elegant as ever. They both knew that this would be the end of them. The coup de grâce was inevitable. 

 

“Why did you have to fall for a muggle blood, Draco?” Rabastan LeStrange barked, the wand aimed at the pair. Hell, his hand was trembling, but this was his mission. “And her? Out of everyone?”  _ And why did he have to be the one, getting rid of them? Rabastan knew. It was the punishment that never ended. The punishment that would follow him for the rest of his life. The punishment for falling for a muggle born too.  _

 

The brunette woman stood there, her hand clenching Draco’s hard, her eyes refusing to break. She wouldn’t let a pesky pureblood wreak her down. Not a Death Eater, not a LeStrange. Her hair was a wild mess, blowing in the wind, strays of the her curls stuck to the dried blood on her cheeks, her forehead and the Death Eater could certainly understand why the blond Death Eater to be had fallen for her. She looked like a goddess, like Athena the goddess of wisdom, craft and war. She was beautiful, even when facing her death. 

 

Rabastan envied them. For their courage. Hermione Granger was born and raised in courage, but Draco? He wasn’t, yet he displayed more courage right now than he could dream of.  _ And he did, constantly. He dreamed of such courage. Though, Rabastan LeStrange didn’t show courage and instead failed his heart, and soul, and love.  _

 

“Get it done with, LeStrange. You trying to make me change my mind is useless.” Draco spoke, his voice so steady, so deep, and Rabastan knew it took all his willpower not tremble. The look didn’t fool the Death Eater, Draco wanted to cry. The pair of them were ripped from their magic. They had been ripped out of their secret home, they had been beaten to messes.  **If you fucked a mudblood, you could handle some mudblood violence.** No way to escape. Draco couldn’t save his love. Hermione couldn’t save her love. This night had one ending only. Death. Only death. Draco was right, he couldn’t change his mind. 

  
_ Did he even want to change the blond’s mind? Wouldn’t it be better to lose his life along with his love, rather than live a entire life with the face of his lover dead implanted on his mind? Never escaping the truth, never escaping the punishment? Rabastan knew better. Stand steady, Draco Malfoy.  _


	2. This was so good, that it had to be fatal for someone

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> draco and hermione recalls fond memories.

 

Hermione Granger and Draco Malfoy were clenching hands, staring hard at Rabastan. How did it come down to this? Why was the world this unfair? Why should love be this wrong? 

 

Draco Malfoy could remember the first time he really truly noticed Hermione Granger, as the woman she was, as the intellectual, wise, beautiful woman she really was. He was searching for a book in the library, when he heard a voice he recognized. It was that damn mudblood. Turning to stare in the direction of the voice, he saw Hermione getting up from the book stacked table and over to one of the shelves. “I’ll help you, what are you looking for?” She asked kindly, and Draco almost gasped when he saw who she was talking to. It was a young boy, first year if he recalled correct and it was a slytherin. Draco watched the brunette talk with the child, smiling widely, searching for whatever book the child needed and he was baffled. Truth was, if a older gryffindor had spoken to him like that when he was a first year old, he might of been able to withstand those pansies a tad more. Draco had been baffled by the mudblood, honestly. She dared to cross the boundaries of unspoken rules. A mudblood, brave enough for that? There was nothing about that which harmonized with his father’s speeches.  Hermione being helpful to the young slytherin was the start of something even if he didn’t knew it at that time. It would take years for it to actually matter in the big picture, but her bravery, her kindness, it did. Matter, eventually.  __

 

It was ironic, wasn’t it. All of this. Here they were, facing their death, and they weren’t even fighting against it. Two children of war, strong warriors, and they didn’t fight it one bit. No, instead they chose to stand steady, to face it together, to leap into the unknown with hands clenched tight. Perhaps it was a insane hope that they’d met again in another world. In a better world. A world where they could be together without having to keep it a secret, without having to fear for each others lives. Suddenly Hermione thought of her favorite book as a child. The brothers Lionheart. A swedish book. About two siblings dying and coming to a new world. Nangijala. She almost smiled at the thought. She wished she could tell Draco about that book. It was a good book. He’d like it. Especially that there was a dragon, even if it was a bad one. Maybe they’d find their very own Nangijala? Suddenly the brunette heroine felt it was difficult to breath, and her grip on Draco’s hand was getting tight, real tight. She was scared now. She couldn’t help it. She didn’t want to die, but there was no way around it. They had known it was coming for a while now, really. Ever since their first kiss, they knew they sealed their fate. A pureblood and a muggleborn, a slytherin, a gryffindor, there were no ending but tragedy. 

 

Hermione Granger recalled her first proper conversation with the pureblood brat. She had been fighting with Harry and Ron, and she stormed out of the common room, eyes heavy with tears. Those fucking idiots. They couldn’t rely on her always doing all their homework. People always expected Ron to write off her work, but honestly, Harry could just as bad, always blaming it on having to save the world. Well, even if she understood that, she did help him too, and she did all their homework and did all the studying for all of them. Despite it being a chilly night, the brunette made her way out of the castle. 

 

What she didn’t expect however, was to run straight into the arms of a certain ferret. She gasped and was almost about to shove him away. Stepping back, she wiped her eyes quickly. Draco sneered at her, opening his mouth to say something. Then he blinked, as if he realized that she was crying. God, how embarrassing, the brunette thought. She really didn’t need this as well. If Draco Malfoy caught her crying, there would be no end of it. “What’s wrong?” now it was Hermione’s turn to blink, and she just stood there, looking dumbstruck. Did she really hear correct? “Bloody hell, Granger, don’t act as if it’s a trap. You don’t think that I’m raised to ask what’s wrong when a woman is crying? I got a mother, if you wondered.” he rolled his eyes, and the annoyance was thick on his voice. 

 

Hermione couldn’t help but spill it all out though. All of it. It was sudden, it was rash, but Hermione had bottled it all up for so long that she felt like she had no choice. She needed to uncork the bottle, needed to let it all out. And that exact night, in the chill breeze, they were friends. They talked, for hours, about everything. Draco talked about his parents, about his upraising, about the dark lord. Hermione talked about her childhood without magic, about her place in the upcoming battle, her friends. They opened up bare for each other. They bared their souls for each other, and it was as if they were living in a parallel world where two people such as themselves weren’t born and raised enemies. 

 

It would take a year, almost two, before they ever did speak to each other again, but an unspoken bond, and a deep respect had flowered up between them and even if they refused to believe it, it was a strong bond. 

 

The next time they did talk, they were drunk actually. Both of them. From different parties, but they were drunk. As they met, the alcohol in their veins, pushed the bond they shared onto the surface and they couldn’t resist talking, laughing, sharing their secrets. And from this day on? Their bond was unbreakable. There was no way to resist it, really. They did try, honestly. But they were drawn to each other, and Hermione felt her heart pound whenever she saw the blond ferret enter a room, and Draco, his breath was taken away each and every time she arrived somewhere. She was beautiful, and she was his. What started with soft smiles and secrets exchanged, grew into gentle kisses and love bites on their skin. Fuck the world, they would say as they laid in each other’s arms, when they remembered the reality. 

 

The dark, brutal reality that people were getting butchered all around them, that they were supposed to be enemies, that Draco Malfoy was wearing the dark mark because he had been forced into a life he never wanted. That Hermione got tortured by her lover’s aunt. That their love was forbidden and shunned upon by everyone but themselves. And perhaps the man in front of them?

 

Their love was supposed to be good, supposed to be pure, but the reality around them killed that idea. 

“Please, don’t go.” Hermione whimpered in her lover’s arms, as he hugged her tight. He had a hard time not letting his own tears flow. He had to be strong for her. “I’m sorry, I’ll be home soon, baby.” Hermione was crying, for everything. For Draco going on a mission against her own people. For Draco being forced into this. For the lack of free will. Because there were no free will within the Death Eater circle. She was crying for her own friends fighting against her lover. What if Harry killed him? What if Ron killed him? What if she had to suffer the pain of losing her true love to her best friends?  **This was so good, that it had to be fatal for someone.**

 

Draco didn’t know how to comfort her, never knew. It never made any sense, this world. It was a fucking nightmare. Every week, almost every day. What could he do? He wanted to run away but he couldn’t. His mother would suffer for it, and Draco couldn’t stomach that. He was blessed, though, with Hermione understanding it. But it was just as hard everytime. Their lives had turned into some sick version of Romeo and Juliet and Draco found himself wishing for the original script. Even with the tragedy in that, it would be heaven compared to this. 

 

Now they had reached the end of their track. Draco gulped, but with watchful eyes he stared at Rabastan, taking in the way the man with the wand was trembling, the way his eyes were red. He understood them, Draco knew that. Because, hadn’t that always been the tale his father printed into his head. “Don’t do the same mistakes as that Rabastan LeStrange. Don’t play with dirt, boy.” When he was a child, he didn’t really understand it. But now? Fuck, he knew exactly what his father had been telling him, what lies he had fed him with ever since he stepped into this world. 

 

“Bloody hell, LeStrange! Get it over with!” Draco almost shrieked, and Hermione jumped slightly. It was sudden and it was a lot and it shook her to hear such desperation in his voice. It was more than desperation, really and the gryffindor princess just didn’t really know how to describe it. Though, perhaps it didn’t need any explaining. The final act in their show wasn’t meant to make any sense, wasn’t meant to be analyzed. 

  
“I love you, Draco.” Hermione mumbled gently, and the blond’s eyes found the brunette, and he gave her the softest, saddest smile. “Love you too, darling.” he whispered and they closed their eyes, ready. 


	3. coward; you're a coward.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> the past haunts the death eater on a killing mission

Rabastan LeStrange heard the desperation in Draco’s voice as he commanded him to finish the job. The job he had been handpicked to. Handpicked should be a good thing, but there were no such thing had a good thing when it involved the Dark Lord. Rabastan realized that a little too late. 

 

The pair in front of him caused bittersweet memories to swarm around in the Death Eater’s head, filling him with pictures and glimpses of a distant time when his fingers was wrapped around his darling’s hand instead of a wand, ready to kill someone. He’d kill. Again; to get back those times. She was the star in his eyes, and Rabastan remembered sneaking out of the common room to meet her as if it was yesterday. Lying to Rudy, saying he going to the library, to class, to the kitchen, all the lies he had fed his brother with, just to see the beautiful young girl. He recalled how soft her long, curly, blond hair felt against his fingers as he ran his rough hands through it, while capturing her lips in soft, gentle kisses. 

 

Her name had been Amanda, a cute, young hufflepuff. A proper hufflepuff too, so kind, so fierce with her love. Rabastan had always expected Hufflepuffs to be weak people. You know, the kind that, well, put up with everything. Never spoke up for themselves. Those “ everyone should be friends” idiots. Victims of abuse, the whole bunch of them. Honestly, the youngest LeStrange had looked more down upon those than Gryffindors. At least a Gryffindor had the guts to speak up. Of course, Amanda happened to change his mind. Honestly, he was ashamed of how he came to know the girl, the curly blond. A  delicate blond giving both generation Malfoys a run for their money. 

 

“Hey! I’m speaking to you!” the girl he would come to know as Amanda had popped up in front of him, looking up at him. Perhaps she was a year younger than him, he didn’t know. Truth to be told, he was fairly certain he had never seen her before. Her eyes wide, her hands placed on her hip, her nose scrunched like a little mouse. In fact, she did kind of resemble a mouse. A cute one. A tiny one. Rabastan had crossed his arms, raising his eyebrow at her. “What?” he snapped at her, looking thoroughly bothered by her presence. Why did a hufflepuff stop someone like him in the middle of the corridor? Him? A slytherin. A pureblood. A follower of the dark lord. 

 

“I know you, you Slytherins think you own the world, but you don’t have the right to bully someone!” Her words caused her to blink. Not because of remorse or anything such. It was just, no one had ever voiced a dislike towards his attitude. The Slytherin took a deep breath, and flashed her a grand false smile. “Sorry, pet, but I don’t even know you. So, unless you’ve put a memory charm on me whenever i’ve ‘bullied’ you, I’m pretty sure you’re bluffing.” He shrugged. The blond girl’s chest rose, and she looked as if she was gonna burst. “You didn’t bully me! Oh merlin! My brother! My innocent first year brother! It took you less than a week to make him a victim of your stupid, bigotry, blood pride!” People were starting to surround them, and the puzzle in Rabastan’s mind was starting to make sense. With wide eyes, his lips stretched into a wide, grim smile. “Wait, you’re the mudblood siblings, right? Pesky mudbloods, taken in by that witch that no man wanted to put kids on.” In the corner of his eyes, he saw his brother among the mass of people. “Look, Rudy, we got ourself a mudblood!” 

 

Needless to say, their relationship was in for a bit of a shaky start. Rabastan used whichever given minute to torment her. He was dead certain no one had seen her cry as often as he did. His brother, Malfoy, the still remaining Black’s, they all also put her through hell, but definitely not as dedicated as Rabastan was. Thinking back at it now, with his wand pointed at the tragic couple in front of him, he wondered how mirrored their relationships actually had been. Wouldn’t that be cruel though? Put two generations through the same crap, as if it was a messed up karma. Maybe, perhaps Draco’s girl was….a reincarnation? The idea got his throat thick and threatened to make him break down, like a child yearning for it’s mother’s love. 

 

One afternoon, Rabastan was being really cruel with her. Usually, he did have the decency to stick to foul words and blocking her way, or ruining her stuff, but never did he use magic on her. His mother’s “be a gentleman to women, Rab, no matter how dirty their blood is, never use magic to hurt them” rang in his head always. He knew Rudy didn’t care about what their mother would say or mean about anything, but the youngest LeStrange had a much closer relationship with his mother and seeing her beaten by curses from his dad, well, it made an impression on him. 

 

This time though, he had taken it too far. She had started running, and before Rabastan really knew what he did, his wand was out, aimed at her. “Flipendo!” The blue spark caused the blond to hit the ground, knocking her down. The hufflepuff gasped for air, probably from the mere shock. The Slytherin froze, actually surprised at himself. Never had he laid a finger on a woman and it felt weird. Uncomfortable. It made him feel...dirty? Amanda scrambled up on her feet, and her big eyes were teary. More than Rabastan had seen before. She had cried, soft tears before because of his taunts and cruel words, but this was more. This was...real? Not that he was stupid enough to dismiss her tears previously, but this was raw, this was real, and it tugged a string. Oh merlin. 

 

“Um.” He watched her, smearing salty tears into her messy hair. “Sorry.” The hufflepuff turned her back to him, and walked away. A burst of curiosity rushed through him and suddenly he was running after her, catching up to her. “Why do you let me do that?” it was a really stupid question and Rabastan had cursed himself a million times for all of what he put her through, and then to top it off by asking her why she let him do it. “Cause you’ve left my brother alone.” it was the only answer Amanda offered before running. Running down the corridor. 

That day’s happening got the slytherin thinking. The mere thought of having sent that jinx in the mudblood’s direction actually terrified him. He never dared to voice that to his brother. Rudy would curse him for hours before owling his father. But the truth was that the youngest LeStrange brother couldn’t shake it off. He didn’t go near that, that bloody mudblood again for ages. He didn’t dare to look her in the eyes. Suddenly, he didn’t feel all that superior to her anymore. 

 

It wasn’t before the sudden event of Amanda, the little mouse, the hufflepuff with the curly hair sat down next to him while he was reading in the library. She reached out her hand. “I forgive you.” Rabastan stared down in the book, gulping, before glancing on her. He didn’t say anything. He didn’t actually know what to say. The blond gave a weak smile, traces of fear in her eyes. “You step out of line once, and suddenly all torment is over. I forgive you.” Never in his life had Rabastan LeStrange, slytherin, soon to be death eater, experienced such compassion. No one did that. No one decided to step up to their bully, claiming to forgive them. Despite, Rabastan saw nothing but sincerity in her eyes. The boy mumbled something incomprehensible, honestly too unsure to know what to say. “I’ll see you around.” she spoke softly, before getting up to leave. Leaving Rab completely confused. Everything he was raised to believe was put into doubt. How could someone so devoted to being a good person, have dirty blood in them? 

 

They didn’t actually speak for a while, but Amanda would smile greeting, when she met him. Except when there were others around, then she’d move quickly out of his reach. Was it for his sake, or hers? He didn’t know but he had a feeling that it had less to do with her, and more to do with him. Looking out a window, he saw her one day at the lake. He had to talk to her, and suddenly he was running. For his dear life. He ran and ran. 

 

She had smiled at him. God that smile made him feel something he had never even allowed himself to feel. Because he was gonna be a death eater. He couldn’t feel those things, those things that were currently rushing through him. It was ungodly and wrong and yet it felt right. 

 

It hadn’t been some passionate love to begin with. No, their love had been slow. It begun with a soft, fragile, oh so fragile friendship. Completely secret, because Rabastan knew it would never be accepted and he had seen what the Black family did with those they meant ruined the family, and truthfully, he didn’t expect his own family to be any more accepting. Had Rabastan known then just how bad it would go, he would never pull her into his world. Or would he? Looking at Hermione and Draco, and the way their fingers were tied, clutching, he suspected that he probably would go through it all over again. Just, he’d be brave then, brave like Draco. Draco was brave together with Hermione. He didn’t just let Hermione be brave alone, like he did Amanda. 

 

Not a day went without Rabastan killing every fiber of himself for the coward way he took. He sacrificed his love for a God that did nothing but ruin lives. He chose the path of the Dark Lord and it was something he would never forgive himself for. 

 

And what now? His life had been too long, and to his fright he was starting to forget things. Her smell was distant. Was her skin really that soft or is it just his mind? Did she really have that small mole just above her hip bone? He was terrified to lose the memories of how her lips felt on his, or her warmth against him, of her voice. The way she moaned his name when they were at their most intimate. 

 

There was no way he would ever forget the day Rudy saw them. Rudolphus looked about ready to kill them both there and then. His brother saw him as a traitor from that moment on. The disgust in his eyes weren’t to be mistaken. They did try to flee, to escape, but just hours after, Death Eaters were all around them. His school mates, his brother, his father. Everyone was there, tearing her out of his arms. She was crying, screaming for him. Those screams would haunt him forever. The only time he’d get peace from those, was when he hit the grave himself. 

 

“You just had to make history repeat itself.” Rabastan hissed at the teenagers, the wind harsh around them, on that lonely hill. “Right, Draco? You just had to become a disappointment. You had to fuck a mudblood?” He could taste the salt on his lips. “No. Because I’m not a coward.” the stern, rock hard voice got Rabastan trembling. 

 

Just like his entire body had trembled when he had his wand aimed at his only love, the only light to shine on his life. He had been a sobbing mess, apologizing, but fuck, what did those apologizes do? Nothing. Yet, she stood there, awaiting her death sentence, with words of comfort, love and forgiveness. “I love, Rab, and I forgive you. They’ll kill you too, if not. You need to live, you need to live so you can do a difference.” 

 

He had tried, several times. But the curse would never work, and he’d cry harder. It was Bellatrix giving him to energy to actually do it. She did what she did best. Crucio. Over and over again. Amanda was screaming in agony, and Rabastan could only watch, with no way ending it. It shattered his heart. 

 

“Avada Kedavra!”  and then there was silence. 


	4. coup de grâce; reprise

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i imagine shiloh fernandez as rabastan's portrayer

How exactly did they end up here, on this hill? A pureblood, a muggle born, stealing looks at each other. Their fingers entwined. Battered and bruised, yet standing uprised, their posture elegant as ever. They both knew that this would be the end of them. The coup de grâce was inevitable.

 

Rabastan could only see his darling, his precious lost love on the ground though, her last breath taken by his wand. It was a fact the world just would never let him forget. Never. He did deserve it, but he was egoistic, he wanted to be able to sleep peacefully, for just one night. 

The death eater was ripped out of his nightmare. He stared at the couple with wild eyes. If he proceeded with this? With this bloody fucked up mission he had gotten pushed into his hands, the chance of ever feeling peace within was such a utterly lost cause he’d be better off dead and facing hell. 

 

Why did the teenagers have to be so stupid? Why didn’t they read the god damn ‘what to not do in a war’ book! It would have made their lives so much better, so much easier. This wasn’t supposed to happen, not for any of them. They should know that. 

 

“LeStrange, erh, I mean, Rabastan. Right? That’s your name?” Hermione Granger broke the silence this time. She had yet to acknowledge him verbally, until now. The man met her eyes, not saying a word, allowing her a chance to speak. “I know you don’t want this. I know you don’t want to kill us. You don’t want to kill anyone, right? I know you’re scared of the consequences, but we can help. The ord-” Suddenly Rabastan snarled, cutting her off. “The order? Where the fuck are they then? Because quite frankly, you’re seconds from dead and there’s no Order here, trying to save you. Where were they back  _ then _ ? Your Order, well, it’s fucking bullshit.” Hermione gulped. She didn’t realize the grave mistake she did by mentioning the Order. The blond beside her sighed gently, his thumb stroking the skin of her hand. 

 

The murderer in front of them almost laughed at the mentioning of the Order. The Order of Phoenix was a lame excuse. 

 

“ _ I love, Rab, and I forgive you. They’ll kill you too, if not. You need to live, you need to live so you can do a difference _ .” Her last words were on a loop, and Rabastan felt sick. What difference had he done? He had thrown her under the bus for a life he barely called one. It most definitely wasn’t worth much. Only filled to the edge with death, blood, betrayal and cowardly behaviour. He had led a life as a murderer, following the orders of a sick man. The same sick man which forced him to kill the light of his life. 

 

She had begged him to do good, and he had not only been the one to kill her, but he had also fucking stepped on her grace, her worth, her wish, as if she had been nothing to him.  _ Which was wrong, so fucking  _ **_wrong._ ** Because, she had been everything to him. Just fucking everything to him. The entire world of his had been in her hand and he didn’t know how to live with himself because he had failed her. And he had continued to fail her. Rudy had been correct when he called him a disgrace. 

 

Once again, he shook away the image of his dead girlfriend, his body was still trembling, and fuck, he was barely able to hold onto the wand by now. Maybe. Maybe he did have one more chance left? One chance to, not exactly redeem himself, but at least begin somewhere. He knew the consequences, but unlike last time, he was ready to face them. For once in his life, Rabastan LeStrange was gonna be brave. The coward had to die. 

 

“They won’t be finished with you, they’ll keep aiming for you, Malfoy. You’ve personally offended him by fucking a muggle born.” it felt great, to use the word muggle born again. He hadn’t since that fateful night. He’s forced himself to spit ‘ **mudblood** ’ ever since. Each time it felt like a fatal stab to the gut. 

The pair looked confused, even the cold, rock solid appearance of Draco Malfoy faltered slightly and Rabastan knew exactly what flickered across the woman’s eyes. It was the smallest hint of hope. The death eater flickered his wand, mumbling something and the two teenagers felt a burst of magic being let loose in them. Their inner core, their magic was no longer trapped inside them. 

 

“You better fucking run. They’ll be here soon.” Rabastan snapped, and he took a deep breath. This was it. Had he done a difference now? “Can you forgive me now?” he looked up at the sky. 

 

Draco tugged on Hermione’s arm, but she couldn’t help but stare at the man who all of sudden changed his mind, to let them go. She glanced at Draco, with great confusion written across her face. “Can you forgive me now?” Who had he been talking to. “I’m not the only one who’s fallen for someone on the wrong side of this war. Now,  _ Granger _ , we gotta run.” Draco yanked her along, and the browned hair woman finally broke her gaze away from Rabastan, and ran with Draco. As fast as her feet could carry him. 

 

Leaving behind a smiling Rabastan LeStrange, a defeated man who finally could find some peace. 

  
Two days later, the two lovers were passed a copy of the daily prophet from Lupin. “ **RABASTAN LESTRANGE FOUND DEAD. SUSPECTED KILLED BY HIS OWN.”**


End file.
